


set ourselves up for the night

by addandsubtract



Category: Cursed (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addandsubtract/pseuds/addandsubtract
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written because 1. cursed would have been so much better if jimmy and bo had just made out, and 2. I received the following text message from TFLN: <i>(303): "lets watch the sunrise" turned into "lets have sex on the roof at six thirty in the morning."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	set ourselves up for the night

**Author's Note:**

> [wishpaper](http://wishpaper.livejournal.com) thought this was a good idea, but I'm not so sure. also, [strikesoftly](http://strikesoftly.livejournal.com) asked me to, and I love her, so I do what she tells me.

Jimmy’s still a little buzzed, and he should have been home about six hours ago. He’s pretty sure that the sun is going to start coming up soon, and he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, mouth still coated with the taste of stale beer. Bo apparently knows where they’re going, so Jimmy just follows him and tries not to be obvious about the fact that this is the first time he’s ever been out this late.

“C’mon, there’s this abandoned building next to the arcade, you know, the one by the movie theatre? Me and the guys used to go there to smoke. We can totally watch the sunrise from the roof.”

Jimmy nods, and then says, “Sure, whatever,” because he’s a little tired, and Bo is really cool and still hasn’t realized that Jimmy isn’t, at all. Bo looks over his shoulder at Jimmy and smiles, sweet and a little mischievous. Jimmy has to remind himself that Bo had wanted to kiss him, that one time, and that he’s not going to suddenly decide to hate Jimmy when he finally realizes how pathetic Jimmy’s life is.

“Dude, it’ll be fun,” Bo says. “We’re almost there.”

“I’ve never seen a sunrise like this before,” Jimmy says, as if that’s a valid response. “Without going to bed first, I mean.”

“Wow, dude, your life must have been so boring before I came into it,” Bo says, and Jimmy has to keep himself from reminding Bo that, sure, yeah, but mostly because Bo made his life really shitty. He’d rather have been bored.

Bo must realize some of this, because his shoulders slump a little, and he sticks his hands into his pockets. Jimmy wants to say something like, _hey, it’s wasn’t that bad_ , but it kind of was, and Bo’s new awesome friendship isn’t really going to change that.

Apropos of nothing, Jimmy wonders if Bo still wants to kiss him, or if that was just the werewolf thing. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about it, but whatever.

They walk in silence the rest of the way, though Bo perks up when the building comes into view. He glances over his shoulder, sees Jimmy dawdling behind him, and Jimmy can see the moment of consideration in his eyes before he rolls them, either in annoyance at himself or at Jimmy, and grabs Jimmy’s wrist.

“Come on,” he says, “stop stalling, or we’re gonna miss it!” Bo’s grip is strong and his hand is callused, and Jimmy stumbles after him, around the back of the building and up onto the fire escape. “And up we go,” Bo says, with a smile. He starts to climb, and Jimmy takes a moment to contemplate the craziness of this particular scenario. He doesn’t particularly like heights, and he doesn’t have a wolf’s reflexes anymore, so if he falls, that’s it. Still, Bo seems to be doing okay, and Jimmy – doesn’t really want to be left behind. He takes a deep breath, and starts to climb.

He doesn’t slip, but he doesn’t look down, either, and he’s grateful when he finally makes it onto the roof of the building. Bo’s still a few steps ahead.

“You’re sure this is safe?” he asks, though it’s probably too late to bother.

“Well, no one’s ever died, as far as I know.” Bo shrugs and smiles, in that way where he knows that he’s not actually making Jimmy feel any better, he just likes seeing him squirm. “Seriously, don’t worry about it, you’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” Jimmy says, and Bo grabs his wrist again, pulling him toward the edge of the roof.

“I’ve been here dozens of time, I promise. It’ll be fun.” The sun has tinged the horizon pink as it starts to rise, and Bo’s fingers are still on his wrist. Bo sits cross-legged, and pulls Jimmy down with him. Jimmy goes without much resistance.

There isn’t much of a ledge to keep them from going over, but the roof is flat, on this side, and covered in smooth slate. It’s cool underneath the seat of Jimmy’s pants.

“I took Brooke up here once,” Bo says after a few minutes of silence. “I’d always liked the idea of making out on a roof, but, y’know, I told her I was gay instead.”

Jimmy laughs, though he doesn’t think he’s supposed to. He could probably blame the slight buzz he still has going on, but he thinks that it’s more likely that it’s just funny. Bo sneaks a glance at him, a small smile, and Jimmy pretends that he’s ignoring it. He’s gotten good, over the past few weeks, at ignoring the way that Bo occasionally looks at him. He still hasn’t quite decided how he feels about it, but he’s thinking – kind of okay. He feels pretty okay about it. It goes a long way toward reassuring Jimmy that Bo does, actually, think that he’s cool enough to hang out with – he still has to convince himself, occasionally, that it’s not some kind of long term practical joke. Which is, objectively, stupid, but so are emotions, and Jimmy doesn’t have a choice about those either.

“So you never got to?” Jimmy asks, and Bo shrugs. The sun still isn’t coming up, but the potential is there.

“Nope, no dice,” Bo says.

There’s a long pause, and Jimmy looks at the curves of his knees, the frayed hem of his jeans, his ratty Adidas sneakers. His bitten fingernails.

“Jimmy?” Bo has never sounded so tentative, so utterly unsure of himself, and it makes Jimmy look up, sharply. Bo is watching him – it’s possible that Bo’s been watching him for a while.

“What?” Jimmy asks, and Bo ducks his head, looking down and then back up, quick and unsteady.

“How about – uh,” Bo starts, and his fingers clench against his thighs. “Can I kiss you?” There’s a slight emphasis on the last word, the _you_ , and Jimmy should say no, immediate and final, but he doesn’t.

“I – I guess,” he says, instead, and Bo swallows, audible in the near silence. He’s staring, and Jimmy can feel himself start to blush underneath the scrutiny. It’s kind of stupid that Jimmy is nervous, because _Bo’s_ obviously nervous, and that should mean that Jimmy doesn’t have to be anymore. “Uh,” Jimmy says, and then Bo wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in.

Bo’s mouth is warm and soft, like a mouth, and Jimmy’s knowledge of such things is relatively limited – limited, in fact, to the two girls he kissed at camp over the summer while CITing.

Bo presses forward, mouth opening, and makes a soft noise, like an exhalation, before pulling away.

“Okay?” he asks, and waits for Jimmy to nod. He leans in again, kissing Jimmy on the mouth and pushing closer with his whole body. He still has a hand on the back of Jimmy’s neck, and his fingertips dig in, just the barest pressure, making Jimmy shiver. Jimmy’s thought about this before, obviously; Bo made it an option, and Jimmy is sixteen. He’s confused most of the time. Bo is nice to him, and likes him for some undisclosed reason. Sometimes Jimmy wonders if he’s so starved for attention that he’ll take whatever he can get.

He’s pretty sure he’s not imagining how good kissing feels, though. He doesn’t think he’s projecting. Bo’s fingers tighten and loosen and tighten again, and Bo kisses him, short, chaste presses of mouth that lengthen until Bo is licking into Jimmy’s mouth and Jimmy is unfamiliar with this, for the most part, but he presses close anyway, because it’s wet, and warm, and Bo keeps making these stupid, cut off noises, like it feels too good.

It’s kind of heady, to think that anyone could actually want him that much. Or at all, actually. Jimmy’s experience with being desirable in any capacity is exactly – nil.

He’s a little breathless when Bo pulls back. It’s still too dark to see much of anything with clarity, but he can hear Bo’s inhale and exhale and inhale, and he leans in on impulse, pressing his lips to Bo’s cheek.

“Hey,” Bo says, voice huskier than it was seven minutes ago. “What was that for?”

“Dunno,” Jimmy says, and he’d rather not think about it right now, really, since that involves trying to come to a conclusion regarding his sexuality, and Jimmy doesn’t really want that at the moment.

Bo laughs. “You’re an enigma, Jim,” he says. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

Jimmy doesn’t feel like answering. Instead, he lies back on the slate, the stone cool against his back through his sweatshirt and t-shirt. He looks up at Bo.

“Well?”

Bo looks at him and snorts. “You’re totally unfair,” he says, and runs a hand through his hair. “You know that I like you and you’re still going along with it.”

Jimmy watches Bo look away, at the reddening horizon, and then turn back to Jimmy. He leans in slow, like he’s giving Jimmy a chance to freak out and pull away, but Jimmy isn’t planning to. His mouth is still tingling from the kissing earlier, and he likes the feel of it.

Bo tucks one hand back underneath Jimmy’s neck, cradling the back of his head, and kisses him soft and tentative. The contrast between the cool slate underneath Jimmy’s back and Bo’s warm hands and mouth is enough to start Jimmy’s pulse racing. Bo pushes in, pressing their bodies together all along one side. He doesn’t stop kissing Jimmy, but he does let his hand move from Jimmy’s head to trail over Jimmy’s chest, pushing his hand just beneath the hem of Jimmy’s hoodie and t-shirt. Jimmy shivers all over, and opens his mouth in surprise, and Bo licks inside. His tongue is like a foreign object, and Jimmy just goes with it, lying back and waiting to get used to the feeling. Bo’s fingertips are scratching lightly over Jimmy’s skin, and Jimmy is pretty sure that this is legit making out. That this is one of those teenager things that he can officially cross off on his checklist.

He wants to grind up into Bo, but he’s not sure where the line is there – is that appropriate in making out, or does that turn it into something else? Bo’s leg slides over his, and Jimmy can hear the soft, wet sounds of their kissing, and the husky breathing, and the slide of their clothes over skin. The rustle of Bo’s jeans rubbing against his. The idea that Bo might actually want to have sex with him doesn’t exactly weird Jimmy out – it makes him nervous, sure, but mostly because he has no idea what he’s doing. The idea that someone like Bo might want him is kind of ridiculous, but Jimmy can’t deny the press of Bo’s mouth, and hardness that occasionally presses against his thigh.

He’s not sure how long they kiss like that, lazily, Bo’s fingers occasionally stroking up Jimmy’s side and over his ribs. Long enough that the sky is getting visibly lighter, turning to gradient blues and pale pinks. Jimmy honestly didn’t know that people could just – kiss for this long. His arousal is a slow burn in the pit of his stomach, something that comes in and out of tune like a far away radio station. Mostly he succeeds in ignoring it, though the soft touch of Bo’s fingers on his bare skin makes it more difficult. He is languorous, shirt rucked up enough that his lower back is pressed naked to the dirty slate, and when Bo pulls away, his eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” Bo says, and smiles down at him. It’s light enough now that Jimmy can see how red Bo’s mouth is, slightly swollen.

“Hey,” Jimmy says, and reaches up without thinking, pulling at the front zipper of Bo’s lightweight jacket. Bo sucks in a soft breath, and Jimmy pushes his hands against Bo’s t-shirt, the planes of his chest firm through the soft cotton.

“What’re you doing?” Bo’s voice isn’t urgent, or particularly wary, but he’s holding back a little, Jimmy can tell. He’s probably still worried that Jimmy is going to have some kind of weird gay crisis – which, Jimmy can understand that, but he – can’t think of anyone at the moment he’d rather be kissing. So.

“Dunno,” Jimmy says, fingers pushing against Bo’s ribs, and pectorals, and he enjoys the way that Bo’s breath stutters when Jimmy’s searching fingertips brush over his nipples. “Touching you.” He still feels lazy and half-drunk. He’s pretty sure the buzz has worn off, but the arousal curling vaguely in his stomach and the residual heat from where Bo is touching him leave Jimmy feeling invincible, like anything he does right now will be the right thing.

Bo laughs, and Jimmy scratches his fingers over Bo’s nipples, purposefully this time, just to see if Bo will shudder again. He does, and Jimmy smiles.

“You have no idea,” Bo says, like the beginning of a sentence, but then he doesn’t complete it. Jimmy wants to feel actual skin, not the tease of cotton covering it. He pushes both hands underneath the hem of Bo’s shirt, and Bo hisses, squeezing his eyes shut and grinding forward, pushing his hips against the side of Jimmy’s thigh. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, and Jimmy realizes just how hard Bo is, and that’s – enough to makes Jimmy’s breath catch. And he’s _apologizing_ , Jesus.

“Whatever,” Jimmy says. “No big. You can do – whatever.” Bo’s ribcage is smooth and warm underneath Jimmy’s fingers, and Jimmy can feel him breathing, a little too fast. He means what he said. Right now he’s up for – whatever Bo wants.

“You don’t actually mean that,” Bo says, not a question at all, and Jimmy, in retaliation, swipes his left thumb over Bo’s nipple, feeling it tighten underneath his touch. Bo bites into his lower lip, fingernails digging into Jimmy’s side, and his hips thrust forward again. He makes a noise, helpless, muffled by the teeth he still has sunk into his lip.

“Jimmy,” he says, like the word is punched out of him, and Jimmy likes having this kind of power, though he’s not sure what to do with it. He’s just – this feels good, and he doesn’t want to stop. He wants Bo to let him keep going. “Don’t,” Bo says.

“Why not?” Jimmy asks, not angry, but a little frustrated. He’s still touching Bo’s chest, thumb moving absently back and forth over Bo’s nipple, and the arousal is getting more insistent. He’s as hard as he’s ever been, and he knows that Bo is, too.

“It’s gonna be too much,” Bo says, certain, breathless, “and you know – I _like_ you, and –” Bo cuts himself off. He’s blushing, and he tilts his head down until his hair falls into his eyes.

“I’m not going to freak,” Jimmy protests, though he doesn’t actually know for sure. He just can’t imagine it right now. He pushes himself off the ground, just a little, and he could kiss Bo, bring this back down, but he doesn’t want to. “I mean it,” Jimmy adds, softer. “I’m up for it.”

It’s six-thirty AM, neither of them have slept yet, and the sun is coming up. They’re both mostly dressed, slightly mussed, on a rooftop, and Jimmy, _Jimmy_ , just essentially propositioned Bo for semi-public sex.

And Jimmy thought the werewolf thing was weird.

“Let me suck you off,” Bo says, like a dare, like he’s saying it mostly because he thinks it’ll scare Jimmy off. Jimmy can feel the nervousness bubbling up, because Bo has to know that he’s never – well, that he’s almost as pure as freshly fallen snow, but at the same time, he imagines it, Bo’s mouth around his dick, and it nearly makes him moan aloud.

“Are you – you want to?” Jimmy asks. He’s pretty sure he’s digging his fingers into Bo’s skin, maybe hard enough to bruise.

“Yeah, yes.” Bo’s voice holds something vulnerable in it, and it makes the tension start to uncurl inside Jimmy’s chest.

Jimmy pulls his hands out from Bo’s shirt and lies back down on the flat of the roof. “Okay, then,” he says, and watches Bo’s eyes flick over his body.

Bo pulls off his jacket, leaving it in a pile next to him, and then rubs his palms on the thighs of his jeans. He’s nervous.

“Fuck.” His hands touch Jimmy’s knees, and then slide up his thighs toward the waistband of his pants. The heel of Bo’s right palm brushes against Jimmy’s dick through the denim, and Jimmy hisses, hips moving of their own volition. Bo smiles at that, and then does it purposefully. Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut, and lets his head thunk back against the roof. Bo half-chuckles, and Jimmy can feel Bo’s fingers pull at the button, and then the zipper, of his jeans. He keeps his eyes closed, half-afraid that he’ll come before Bo actually gets his mouth on Jimmy’s dick. It’s just the sort of embarrassing thing that would happen to him.

Bo kisses the skin of Jimmy’s belly, just above the waistband of his pants, and Jimmy whines, high in the back of his throat. The entire force of his arousal is pushing down on him now, urgent, and when Bo bites into the soft skin, he shudders all over.

“Shhh,” Bo says to his belly, and then Jimmy can feel Bo’s hands hooking into the loose waist of his jeans and the elastic of his boxers, and start to pulls them down. “Push your hips up, just a little,” Bo says, and Jimmy does. The fabric scrunches around his skinny thighs. Jimmy has to open his eyes, then, because – Bo is kissing the crease just where his hip meets thigh, an oddly tender gesture. His ass is cold against the slate, and he’s nervous, and Bo is looking up at him from where he’s crouched, head on Jimmy’s hip, and his hair brushing against Jimmy’s dick.

“Jesus Christ,” Jimmy says, and digs his teeth into his lower lip. Bo licks his hand, and wraps it around the base of Jimmy’s dick, stroking once, and Jimmy can feel his hips trying to move, but Bo’s weight is holding him down. He’s thankful for that, though it doesn’t help with the shocked breath, almost a grunt.

“Ready?” Bo asks, but it has to be rhetorical, because he leans up, and sucks the head of Jimmy’s dick into his mouth. It’s – fuck, it’s like nothing Jimmy has ever felt in his life, wet like jerking off in the shower, but hotter, and tighter, and Bo sucks hard. Jimmy’s head hits the slate hard enough that it’s probably going to hurt later, and some distant part of his mind notices that the sky is lightening, turning from deep blue and pale pink clouds to some hazy mix between the two.

He takes two huge, gulping breaths, and Bo laughs, or hums, or _something_ around his dick, and Jimmy knows, for certain, that this isn’t going to take very long. Bo slides down, a little, taking more in, tongue pressing against the underside, and Jimmy just – has to look. He has to.

Bo has his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, and one arm pressing against Jimmy’s thighs to hold him still. Jimmy’s dick is sliding in and out of his mouth, obscene and wet, his other hand curling around the base.

“Holy shit,” Jimmy says, and Bo’s eyes open to meet his. They lock together, and Bo’s tongue presses just against the underside of the head, and he hums something, maybe words, or nonsense. “I’m gonna – Jesus, Bo, I’ve never – you have to,” Jimmy babbles, too many unfinished sentences, but Bo just sucks him down, and moves his hand the tiniest bit, and Jimmy starts to come. He expects Bo to pull back, but he doesn’t, he strokes and sucks Jimmy through it, until he’s a trembling, sweaty, half-dressed mess. Then Bo scoots over to the edge of the roof, and spits Jimmy’s come down to the grass below. “Sorry,” Jimmy says, “sorry.” He’s not sure if he’s apologizing for not warning Bo better, or for coming so quickly, or something else entirely, but Bo just rubs his mouth with the back of his hand and looks pleased.

“Shut up,” Bo says, “that was awesome.” He’s grinning. Jimmy sits up and hikes his pants back over his thighs, though he doesn’t bother to redo the zipper or the button just yet. Instead, he reaches for Bo, grasping the front of his shirt in one fist, and kisses him. He tastes – like Jimmy’s come, which Jimmy had actually been curious enough to try post-orgasm once. It somehow tastes better in Bo’s mouth, though he’s not sure if that’s because it’s somewhat diluted, or just because he likes kissing Bo. Either way, Bo jerks against him, surprised, and then opens his mouth to let Jimmy’s tongue in. Jimmy is definitely learning.

Jimmy surprises himself by letting his hands drop to the button of Bo’s jeans, tugging at it until it pops open. Bo isn’t exactly rutting against Jimmy’s thigh, but when they press together Jimmy can feel how hard he is. He pushes down the zipper, and feels the noise that Bo makes against his mouth.

He expects Bo to balk, but when Jimmy pulls away to lick at the palm of his hand, Bo just watches him with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. His chest is heaving. Jimmy pushes his hand down the front of Bo’s pants and leans in to kiss him again.

Bo’s skin is damp, a little sweaty, and when his fingers push past the elastic of Bo’s navy boxer-briefs, Bo’s hips push into it. Jimmy wraps his fingers around Bo’s dick, and tries to think about how to do this on someone else. There’s precome slicking up the head, and a damp spot on Bo’s boxer-briefs, and Jimmy can’t stop thinking about how he did this to Bo, _he_ did, and that’s a power he’s never had before. He strokes tentatively at first, slicking Bo’s dick up with the saliva on his hand, and Bo’s precome. He lets his thumb slide over the head, and Bo’s hips stutter forward. His teeth tug on Jimmy’s lip, and he moans. Jimmy catches on quickly enough, speeding up and tightening his hand and twisting until Bo isn’t even kissing him anymore, just shoving his hips into Jimmy’s hand, head thrown back.

Jimmy leans forward and licks a line of sweat off of the side of Bo’s neck. Bo curses, losing the rhythm. Jimmy takes the hint and bites down, softly at first, and then harder. He gets two more good strokes in, and then Bo is coming, pants and briefs still pulled up, shirt still on, sweat soaking through the thin cotton at the center of his chest and at his armpits. Jimmy strokes him through it, and when Bo makes a hurt noise, he pulls his hand out, reaching over the wipe it off on the ledge.

“You – catch on quick,” Bo says, still breathless, and Jimmy kind of just wants to kiss him again, which – says something about his supposed heterosexuality. He likes girls, he knows, but he also likes Bo. He’s willing to be flexible.

“The sun’s almost up,” Jimmy says, and it has to be nearing 7AM. Ellie will be up soon, and wondering where he is. At the moment, Jimmy is too post-coital to really give a shit.

“Would you look at that,” Bo says. He shucks off his shoes so that he can pull off his jeans and boxer-briefs, using the briefs to wipe himself off. Jimmy tries not to stare at the muscles in his legs, at his ass, and fails. Bo catches him, and laughs, tugging his jeans back on. Barefoot and going commando. “Maybe we should get you home,” Bo says, soiled cotton bunched up in his fist. Jimmy wonders if he still tastes like Jimmy’s come. He hopes so.

“You could stay over,” Jimmy offers, since he’s sure Ellie won’t mind. She’s still happy that he has friends at all.

“I’d like that,” Bo says, and makes as if to stand. Jimmy grabs him by the hair at the nape of his neck, and kisses him again, chaste and short. Bo looks a little stunned when he pulls back.

“We’re fine,” he says, and tries not to make it sound like the question it is.

“Yep,” Bo says, “we’re fine.” He zips up Jimmy pants for him, and does the button. Then he grabs his jacket, and slings it over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he says.


End file.
